Dragon Tamer
by Silvermane
Summary: Bay Verite (ordinary, I swear!) is a wild transfer student from New York, Sorted into...Slytherin? Confused by the anti-Muggle, almost evil group, the ambitious Bay nonetheless grows closer and closer to Draco Malfoy...will she be sucked into the Darkness
1. Goodbyes

3: Lessons

Draco Malfoy rose with the sun. It was impossible to sleep past sunrise for some odd reason. 

He pulled the black school robes over his hair, shaking it out of his eyes. Over the summer it had grown into long bangs that fell into his eyes.

Carrying his bag and an Arithmancy book, he stalked down into the Common Room. As Draco bent down to put the book into his school bag, his hair fell into his eyes yet again, clouding his vision in a nimbus of pale strands. "I _really_ need to cut that off," he muttered violently to himself.

"Don't." The Verite girl was curled up in an chair with a scroll in her hands. Her school tie was loose, she didn't seem comfortable in the Hogwarts uniform. "You look like a surfer boy without a tan right now, and that's an image you want to hold on to."

Draco arched his eyebrows. "And do _you_ think looking like a bum from the beach is wonderful?"

She smiled. "Mmm hmm. And so does the entire female, teenage population of the world, I think. Excluding Lesbians, but you can't really help that, now can you."

Draco stiffled a laugh. Verite's sense of humor was certainly very _interesting_.

"I can only assume that you know how to get to breakfast after you've completed four years here," she said, and Draco noted a bit of shyness in her joking voice, she was the new girl and knew she didn't fit in quite yet. "Can you show me the way?"

"Sure."

Verite grabbed her bag and followed Draco out the door.

Halfway down the the Great Hall, Verite broke Draco's natural silence as she tied her hair back.

"If you grew your hair long enough, you could pull it into one of those little pig-tails like people in the seventeen-hundreds wore."

"Oh, that's ever so helpful," he said sarcastically.

She grinnned. "I know."

That was when Draco rolled his eyes in mock despair.

And Verite grinned again.

***

"Potions first," Blaise said sleepily, running her fingers through her raven-wing hair.

Bay bit her lip. From her recollection of the Weasley twin's conversation with her before, Snape was the meanest teacher in the school. According to her House members, he was the best. She'd have to figure the professor out for herself.

"Potter persecution," Alena snickered, brown eyes glittering.

Gwen and Blaise giggled malaciously as well. Bay simply smiled and raised her eyebrows. _Why_ exactly did Slytherins hate Gryffindors?

"Oh, look, only fifteen minutes until class!" Gwen gasped, standing up. "I hadn't noticed the Hall emptying!"

Bay had noticed, but preferred to keep on chatting. "We should go then, shouldn't we?"

Alena nodded. "We'll have trouble pairing up now, because with Bay we have twenty-one people."

"No, because one of the Gryffindor girls moved to Australia. Scared little Landers."

"Well," said Bay reasonably as they started to leave, "If I had to choose between being killed by an evil wizard staying or being teased by you when I couldn't hear it and going, I'd leave too."

"But you aren't Landers," Gwen said. "So why bother arguing that point?"

Bay shrugged.

The chamber outside the Great Hall had thick rugs, colorful portraits and tapestries, and suits of armor. As the group went deeper, Bay noticed, the carpets disappeared and more gloomy tapestries replaced their colorful counterparts. Bay shivered slightly at the cold and damp feeling of the air around her.

She might have walked right passed the narrow door if Blaise hadn't pulled her into it. "I'll be your partner," the dark-haired girl whispered. "Gwen and Alena will partner up, Viviane will probably work with Adrian, and Pansy the Pill can work with a Gryffindor."

"Fine with me," Bay smiled.

The two of them chose a seat behind Alena and Gwen and Blaise began assembling equipment. "Circe's Cauldron," Blaise whispered, "Any information on it?"

"Well…the witch Circe had this stuff that turned people into animals…and what type of animals they turned into had something to do with what type of person they were…and there was something about a magic flower that was an antidote sort of a thing…and that's really all I remember. Ask the teacher when he gets in here."

"Actually," Gwen said, turning around, "That pretty much sums it up. The potion turns you into whatever type of animal you are at heart. And the antidote is the Messenger's Trillium."

"Interesting. Now we'll know what types of people are disgusting little rodents," Bay said.

"Oh, I expect Weasel-Weasley will be a rodent. Probably a weasel," Draco smirked, and he took a seat in front of Alena and Gwen.

"That's real rich coming from the Amazing Bouncing Ferret."

In the narrow doorway were the Gryffindors. The black-haired boy Bay had seen the night before was frowning at Draco.

The barest hint of coloring rose in Draco's pale face. "Oh," he sneered, "And I expect _you're_ going to turn into some brave and mighty Gryffindor lion, Potter?"

It was hard for Bay to keep a straight face. The two of them were even less competent at insults than her little sister. Each was leaving openings for the other to insult him.

"Better than a slimy, dirty, Slytherin snake."

"Actually," Bay told him, smiling, "Snakes aren't slimy at all, and are practically the neatest creatures alive. There is absolutely _nothing_ wrong with snakes. By the way, have you brushed your hair recently? It looks like you've had a few animals less tidy than snakes sleeping in it."

Harry Potter blinked. "Actually, I brushed it this morning."

But Bay knew it was a poor comeback, and Blaise nudged her with a wink as the Gryffindors sat down.

Professor Snape came in then, and Bay wondered how long it had been since he had last _washed_ his hair.

"Today," he told the class, "We will be making a potion known as Circe's Cauldron. It reveals a person's true animal form at heart. Make sure to add the essence of mikal _after_ the potion come to a boil."

Getting the fire started with some ebony flames from her wand, Bay started to chop up the Venus Fly-trap pads. What sort of an animal would she be…? Not a snake, not a lion, and certainly not a ferret.

"Hey," she whispered to Blaise, "What was Harry Potter talking about? That thing about the Amazing Ferret?"

Blaise rolled her eyes. "Last year, Draco and Potter got in one of their little fights. Potter turned away and Draco was going to jinx him, but the crackpot Dark Arts Professor saw him and turned him into a ferret. It's been one of their main insults for a while, actually."

"Okay…" Bay said, letting her skepticism show.

"It's true. Ask Potter himself."

Bay shrugged. "I'll belive you."

"You should."

The potion, currently bubbling in a saffron color, turned lime green with the addition of the fly-trap pads. "Finished dicing the unicorn hairs?"

"Yes," Blaise sighed, and she dumped the small pile into the potion. Now it was a swirling purple color…_not_ something Bay would be interested in drinking.

"Isn't it supposed to be white?" Bay asked cautiously.

"Drat! We forgot the ground unicorn horn!" 

Carefully, Bay measured out half a teaspoon of the brilliant silver dust, dumping it carefully into the cauldron. The mixture swirled a moment more before finally turning the desired white. "It looks like milk."

"I guess," Blaise said, closing her eyes and standing up. "Let's go wash up."

The icy water numbed Bay's hands, and she hurried back to the little fire around the cauldron, grinning as she warmed her hands in the crackling flames. Blaise leaned back in her seat and looked like she was trying to sleep, which was rather hard with the bubbling, clanging, and thudding of knives going on around the room.

Presently, all the noises stopped and the rest of the class sat back like Blaise.

"Now," Professor Snape said, "You test your potions. If you've brewed it correctly, you will transform into an animal. If not, you may end up with the head of a mongoose and the legs of an ostrich. I wish you," he continued with a malacious smile at the Gryffindors, "The best of luck."

Blaise grabbed a ladle, and Bay picked up the stirring spoon. "On the count of three?" Bay whispered.

"One, two, three."

Neither of them drank.

"Okay, just go," Bay said, and she drank.

There was one word to describe it: she was _stretching_. Her ears felt like they were being pulled out, her legs shrunk and her arms did too. Her torso lengthened, and so did her nails. There was a peculiar prickling feeling as well…

Then came the noise. It felt like she could hear everything, and smell everything. But something was wrong with her eyes and she wasn't seeing the colors, although she saw distinct shades of color.

Next to her was a black bird, either a crow or a raven, but most likely the latter. It was staring at her. '_Blaise?'_ She thought.

'_Who else?'_

'_Who's talking? Why am I hearing things?'_ A tawny owl with puffed feathers was _talking_ in some way.

'_What_ am _I?' _Asked a little brown mouse next to the owl.

"I do believe," said the professor, "That right now your Anipathy will be kicking in. Anipathy is a talent that allows transformed wizards and witches to communicate with other similarly changed people." Professor Snape then changed one of the walls into a mirror. "I'm giving you time to figure out what you are, while I go pick up the antidote from Professor Sprout." And he walked out of the room.

Much lower than she had been a minute ago, Bay walked over to the mirror, something swishing behind her. A black shadow stared back at her, tail flicking and grey eyes studying their new body. A panther.

The raven hopped onto her head, just as the rest of the herd of animals came over. '_I'm a raven and I still don't know why I'm like a writing desk,' _Blaise laughed.

'_Let's figure out who's who,' _Bay shouted to the entire group. '_Line up, then step out and tell us who you are as a human being.'_

_'No thanks,'_ said a white bird hovering above her. It looked a bit like a snowy owl, only more hawkish and slimmer. The barrings were jet black, like splatters of ink. _'I'm not interested in lining up for roll call. Besides, I intend to have a bit of fun first.' _The white bird swooped down and landed on the rack of a stag.

_'Enjoy this?' _the stag said, _'Get off me, Malfoy.'_

_ 'Now how did you know it was me, Potter?'_

_ 'I could ask you the same question,' _and the stag began to shake its head vigorously, trying to get Draco off.

Some of the animals were sending out peals of laughter. Bay glanced at them. They must all be Slytherins. There was a laughing tortoise, a poodle, an otter, a stoat, a fox, a hare, a lemur, and a slimy yellow blob that could have been a slug besides her, Blaise, and Draco.

_'Buzz off, Malfoy,' _a reddish-gold retriever snarled.

_'That red really gives you away, Weasley. Does the little doggie want his bone?'_

The dog growled. _'Shut up, Malfoy.'_

_ 'Oh, and are you going to make me?'_

_ 'Malfoy, get off!' _Harry told the bird clinging to his antlers.

_'Again, there is absolutely no way you can get me to move when I don't want too.'_

_ 'Maybe you should have been a mule, Malfoy,' _Harry said, exasperated. _' You sure are being ass stupid.'_

_ 'Oh! Potter made a smart comeback! Where are all the fireballs and comets for Doomsday?'_

Bay had been watching with an amused grin. But now she saw Ron Weasley, the red Golden Retreiver, tensing. He was going to jump at Draco—

Hurdling over the fox and the otter, Bay slammed into Ron in midair, knocking him to the ground. And now the Anipathy channels, which had been silent for Draco, Harry, and Ron's exchange, were noisy with animals shouting to each other. Bay had one paw on Ron's chest, and she screamed to him over the hubub, _'You idiot, you could have hurt both of them!'_

_ 'Bay?' _Ron gasped. __

_ 'Yes me. If you missed you would have broken Harry's antlers. Be more careful.' _Then she pressed slightly harder into his fur and stalked away. 

Blaise and the owl were now viciously beating each other with their wings and shrieking. The mouse was running from the stoat, and a gazelle was stabbing at the otter. Bay slipped into a corner, not willing to join the fray unless she had to.

Someone landed on her back. _'It looks like I started quite a pandimonium,' _Draco laughed.

_'If anyone gets hurt, will you take the blame so readily?'_

_ 'No. But I'm doing the same thing you are—staying out of the fight for now.'_

_ 'Whatever.'_

_ 'Sit back and enjoy it, Verite.'_

_ 'How did you know who I was?'_

_ 'You accent. Stands out even here.'_

And it was then that the professor returned, carrying a basket of small white and gold flowers. "Potter!" he shouted.

_'And besides,' _Draco added, _'Potter and Weasley will get blamed anyway.' _

Professor Snape began to shoot out freezing hexes into the melee. When everyone else was immoble, Bay and Draco walked quietly out of the corner, two silent shadows.

"Now," Professor Snape said in a deadly voice, "I will touch each of you with the Messenger's Trillium, and you will resume your normal forms. Everyone except those two," and he gestured at Draco and Bay, "Will receive detentions."

The professor touched Draco with the flower, and Draco touched Bay with it. She was pulled again in the opposite directions she had been pulled in before. When she was in her normal form again, Bay touched Blaise with it and quickly packed up.

Once out the door she began to run, trying to catch up to Draco who was halfway down the hall. "Why did you do that?" she asked.

He smirked. "Just to annoy them."

Bay shrugged. "That's a fine reason for starting, but you went a little far, don't you think?"

"Not really."

Sighing, Bay stopped walking at Draco's fast pace and waited for Blaise. She still hadn't found out who was what animal.

***

"I'm telling you, Defense Against the Dark Arts is _horribly_ boring," Gwen said.

"It wasn't at my old school."

"Well it is here," Viviane told her, looking up from her textbook, "Because we get a new teacher every year."

Bay rolled her eyes. "Sure you do. I suppose they all drop down dead?"

"The first one did," Alena said. "The second one got hit with a Memory Charm—turned out good for us too, he was an egotistical git—and left after that happened. Third was a werewolf, but I'll admit he knew about Dark Creatures. He was probably best friends with some of them. _Last_ year the teacher wasn't who the Headmaster had hired, and the imposter got his soul sucked out by the Dementors."

"And that," Blaise informed her, "Is a brief history of our Defense teachers."

Bay couldn't say anything.

"This teacher's the one we were _supposed_ to have last year. He agreed to come."

"His name is Mad-Eye Moody…he _was_ a great Auror," Viviane sneered, "But now he's a senile old crackpot."

"And we have his class next!" Bay said cheerfully.

"Ummm, yeah."

***

There were no chairs in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

Draco sat down at the back of the room, where he would be if there were desks. Some of his Housemates remained standing, and some sat down like he did. Verite perched on the windowsill.

Closing his eyes, Draco waited for the teacher to come in.

"Stand up!"

Quickly, Draco jumped to his feet. The rest of the sitting students stood up swiftly as well. Verite smashed her head on a wooden bar and moaned loudly as she straightened.

"I didn't move the desks so you could lie down and sleep!" the old professor barked. He looked exactly as Draco remembered him, although he had a little less hair. The whirling eye that gave him his nickname roved around the room. "You are going to get into _shape_ for training in this class! And that means you're going to stand up! Any questions?"

Draco raised his hand. He had asked this question of the imposter-teacher Crouch last year, but hadn't gotten an answer. 

"You, back there, what is it?"

"Can you see through people's clothes with your eye?"

There were scattered giggles around the room. Although Zabini simply rolled her eyes, Verite was covering her mouth and doubled up with laughter behind the professor's back.

"If I wanted to," Moody said grimly, "Yes, I could." This brought on a fresh wave of snickers. "But I have it set only to see through Cloaking Charms and Devices. Now! Last year you learned some pretty good jinxes and counter-jinxes…and you covered the Imperius Curse as well, I'm told. This year we'll get into the Patronus Charm, as well as a whole new set of hexes and curses. Since none of you did too well on the Imperius Curse last year, we'll cover that again as well."

There was a well merited set of groans at this announcement.

"Why are you moaning?" Moody asked. "If there's a job to be done, you have to do it!"

Behind Moody's back, Verite was smacking her head into her fist.

That pretty much summed up the feelings in the class, Draco thought. _We'll all get to waltz around like ballerinas without knowing it._

Verite raised her hand. "If you were using the Imperius Curse on someone, do they snap out of it if you use the Crutaticus Curse on them? I mean, it has to hurt like hell, and that would snap you out of anything, wouldn't it?"

Moody turned around, his wooden leg clanking on the floor. "American, are you? From New York as well to judge by that accent of yours."

"Um, yes."

"Then your teacher would be a certain Llydin Holmes. Holmes routinely teaches all of his students practically every aspect of the Unforgivables. You already know the answer, so stop wasting time."

Verite bit her lip. "I forgot," she offered hopefully.

Draco cracked a wry smile.

Moody sighed. "The answer is no, the Imperius Curse retains its hold on a victim until it is broken by will power or taken off."

"Thanks," Verite said.

Draco spotted Zabini rolling her eyes at Verite. What an idiot that girl was being. Wasting time, Draco supposed.

"The rest of you!" Moody shouted. "Line up! We're doing some demonstrations!"


	2. The Train and the Hat

I'm glad I'm here to do this, folks

AN: I'm telling you, copyright notices are so boring to write! But JK Rowling owns all of the characters. I own simply: the plot, the Verite family, and…ummm, that's it. You may notice that Fred and George are selling things that they are also selling in some of my other stories. I personally cannot come up with a million W.W.W. ideas for them. **Keep reading!**

**2: The Train and the Hat**

Bay sat up abrubtly as the alarm clock went off. She _still_ hadn't fully adjusted to the time change here, but she was working on it.

Today was September the First, the day she left for her new school. They were taking a _train_ of all things. If not Portkeys, why not take a plane or something? It was a lot faster.

Bay slumped into a pair of pants, a camo haltertop, and, of course, her yellow sweatshirt.

Her bags were packed, with the odd black robes she had picked up for school stuffed on top of her other supplies. Bay understood why Muggles had stopped wearing billowing clothing hundreds of years ago. Apparently, British wizards didn't.

Today's Plan: Eat, take the car to King's Cross Station, say bye to dad as he left for work, and board the train to school. The "Hogwarts Express".

Bay slid groggily down the banister. Bagel on the table with a glass of milk. She'd eaten a lot of bagels lately—anything from plain to onion to sesame seed ones.

At seven forty-five she threw her duffel bag in the car and fell asleep again in the back seat of the old Mercedes. According to her father, this had once been on of the fastest cars anywhere. Lexus' and even Jeep trucks zoomed past them. This old car was just that—old.

Three hours later, they pulled up at the station. "Remember, Platform nine and three-quarters," her dad told her as he took her duffel and her owl, Angel, out of the trunk of the car.

"I know," she said, rolling her eyes and throwing her sweatshirt over her shoulder. She knew the number, it was just finding it that would be difficult.

"I love you, sweetie," her dad said, embracing her.

"I'll miss you," she told him.

"Okay, bye then."

"Bye."

And the old silver Mercedes drove away. Vaugely, she wondered where the heck her father had gotten that junky car from.

She wheeled her cart into the station, an old blanket covering Angel's cage.

There they were—Platform nine. And next to it—Platform ten.

Bay stood there, wiping a few loose strands of hair from her face and staring at the wall between the two platforms, clueless and confounded.

"What are _you_ doing?" drawled a voice behind her.

"What's it look like I'm doing?" she asked, exasperated. The speaker was a boy her age, with cute long, bleached blond bangs but rather pale skin.

"I don't know. Maybe you're crazy and looking for a certain Platform Nine and three-quarters," the blonde boy said, voice sarcastic, and grey eyes dancing.

"Actually I am," she said brightly. "Are you?"

"I _know_ what I'm doing," the boy said. His voice was an aristocratic, solidly British one. 

"Ummm, would you tell me then?" she asked sheepishly, nudging her wand out of the jacket pocket to let the blond boy know she was a witch and not a Muggle.

The boy sighed. "Just walk through."

"Oh," she said, as the boy vanished through the seemingly solid brick wall between the two platforms. This was very confusing.

She walked through and found herself on a platform with a scarlet train and a sign that read "Platform Nine and ¾"

All of the people her age were walking onto the train now, although some were giving parents one last goodbye kiss and hug for the year.

Bay jumped up onto the train, and found an empty room. Tossing Angel's cage above the seat, she stuffed her duffel below and pulled out a book—this time _Dragonflight_ by Anne McCaffrey. She had _Redwall_ and _The Count of Monte Cristo_ stuck under her collection of quills and an old Sneakoscope as back-ups in case she finished her first book before the ride to school was over.

Pulling out a pillow and stretching across four of the seats, Bay made herself comfortable and pulled out an enchanted sports bottle full of Hawaiian Punch, a bag of potato chips, and a bag of Snickers miniatures and candy corn. Books and junk food were good combinations on long trips.

Halfway into _Dragonflight_ (which had dragons completely unlike any real dragons, but a riveting plotline and great romance,) the compartment opened and in came two people—who looked exactly the same.

"Hey look Fred, it's the football girl!"

"You're a witch?" Fred asked. 

She nodded.

"Then how come we never saw you here before?" George frowned.

"Two words—transfer student."

"Oh right. Well, Fred and I are selling a few things."

"Like what?" she questioned cautiously, looking at their grinning faces and remembering their antics on the soccer field a few weeks before.

"Our inventions," Fred annouced.

"Our brain children," George added.

"Hot pops—warm your heart, soul, and everything else."

"Or Ice Cream Ink—tastes like the featured flavor and compatable with Honeyduke's Sugar Quills."

"What flavors?" Bay asked, eyes lighting up.

"Raspberry, blueberry, bubble gum—"

"Chocolate, Muggle Oreo, Orange, Lemon—"

"No George, stupid, you couldn't ever see the lemon so we dropped it."

"Oh right. And lime," George finished, looking slightly winded from his long recitation of flavors.

Bay's eyes widened. "When do you do this all?" she asked.

"When we should be working on homework," Fred said.

"And other things. We have some left-over Canary Creams as well, but they're a bit out of style now. Got old last year when people molted too much and a few kids took an allergic reaction to all the feather left around. It was a pity though, they were fun to watch."

"I'll take a bubble gum inkpot, thanks," Bay said. "Er—how much?"

"Two sickles," both the twins chimed toghether.

Bay paid and stared at the twins as they walked out before going back to her reading.

The shadows outside lengthened. The lanterns in the compartment bobbed back and forth with the motion of the Hogwarts Express.

Around five thirty by Bay's watch, the pale, blond boy who had shown her the way onto the Platform came in, accompanied by two huge boys and a girl with a pug face.

"Hello," she said, without looking up like she did to everyone else who passed her compartment.

"Uh, hi," said one of the big thugs.

Bay rolled her eyes at the blond boy and the girl, who hopefully had a higher level of intelligence than their two companions. 

"So you're a new girl," the pale boy said.

"That's right," she said slowly.

"You talk funny," the girl, scrunching up her nose. Bay was sorry to have thought she looked like a pug before. That was insulting the dogs. "Your accent is weird."

"I talk _strangely_," Bay retorted. "Not _funny_. And I wonder why I talk like this. Could it prehaps be because I'm a transfer student from U.S.?"

"The what?" the girl asked.

"The—United—States—of—America," Bay said slowly.

"Draco, she's being _rude_," the girl whined. "Lets go."

"You can go," the blond boy, Draco, told her. "I'd like a little chat with the new girl."

The pug-girl flounced out of the room with her nose in the air, and shot a venomous glance at Bay as she stalked out of the compartment.

"Draco?" Bay repeated. "As in Latin for dragon?"

"Yes," the blond boy drawled lazily. "Draco Malfoy."

"Hi, I'm Bay Verite, from New York."

"Verite. Never heard of the family."

Bay frowned. "You keep tabs on everyone's family?"

"Sort of," Draco said. "Are your parents magical people?"

"Yes, both of them," Bay said proudly. "We can trace the family back fairly far on both sides."

"Hmmm. Do you know which House you'll be in?"

"What?" Bay said, confused again.

"Your House. Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor."

Bay stuck a smile on her face. "Sorry, no clue what you're talking about."

"Ah. Well, I guess I better make introductions to my friends. Crabbe and Goyle." Crabbe was the bigger one, but only by an inch topping each of their seven feet.

She nodded coolly. This Draco Malfoy might help her settle into school, but she doubted his elephantine friends would improve her social status at this place.

"I suppose we'll be seeing you later," Draco said as he walked out the door. "And nice shirt."

"Thanks," she said, and went back to reading.

It was only two hours later that a large castle came into view. Bay slid into a bathroom and changed into the annoying Hogwarts school uniform. It was smooth silk, but the way wizarding robes in general were cut were simply not practical. Then she proceeded to pack away all of her books, goodies, and the little bottle of "bubble gum" ink.

Bay went out into the walkway of the train and joined the river of students going onto the station. An enormous man was shouting "Firs' years, o'er here!" and a flock of little eleven year-olds nervously went over.

The older students were boarding some sort of horseless-carrage, and Bay jumped up into one with an Asian girl and a two boys, one African-American and the other with straw-blonde hair.

As the carrages started off, the girl smiled at Bay and said, "Hi, I don't think I've seen you around before."

"My name's Bay Verite—we moved here from America."

"Cho Chang, nice to meet you, Bay."

"Derek Fullerton," the African boy introduced himself.

"Aaron Cygnus," the other boy said. "We're all sixth years."

"I'm in fifth level," Bay said. She was the baby here as well as the new student.

"Well, you've come to one of the best schools in the world now, Bay," Cho told her.

"The _very_ best," Aaron conridicted.

"I guess," Cho grinned.

"What's the school like?" Bay asked.

"Confusing," Derek said at once.

"You'll manage," Aaron said. "But watch out for the trick stairs and the fake doors. And Filch. And Snape. And Peeves too. Possibly the Weasley twins."

"And they are…?" 

"Filch is the cleaning person, a Squib. He's a real monster. Snape teaches Potions, and hates practically everyone except Slytherins. Peeves is a poltergeist, and a real pain."

"And the twins…" Aaron sighed.

"Fred and George are only probably the greatest mischief makers ever to roam the halls of Hogwarts."

"I can believe that," Bay laughed.

The four of them walked up a huge set of stone steps into an enormous chamber, where a grey-haired witch was standing. "Bay Verite!" she shouted over the crowd of students, "Please come up here now!"

Bay darted through the crush of kids to the lady.

"Miss Verite?"

Bay nodded.

"You need to be Sorted now."

"What?" Bay asked. What _was_ this Sorting thing everyone kept talking about?

"Sorted—into your House. Your House is your family. You room with them, learn with them, and put up with them for the next year. Just stay in here and follow the first years in."

The chamber emptied, and then the younger students came in. A few of them whispered and pointed at the girl who was so obviously older than they were. Bay ignored them.

The grey-haired lady came back in a few moments for the nervous group, and Bay brought up the rear.

They were on a platform, and in the center was a stool with a ragged, patched hat on it. Everyone was staring at it, expecting something miraculous.

The Weasley twins and their brother and sister were out in the audience. One of them—Fred or George—gave her a huge exagerated wink and a thumbs up. With them were a girl with thicker hair than even Bay's, and a boy with messy hair, glasses, and what looked to be some food smeared on his forehead—she couldn't quite make it out.

And while she was studying the Weasleys' companions, the brim of the hat opened and it burst into song.

"I am the Hogwarts Sorting Hat,

My job is very clear,

I tell you all where you should go,

Each and every year.

To Gryffindor, home courageous,

Where bravery is great,

Hufflepuffs are loyal, and,

Stand to meet their fate.

Ravenclaw for clever folks,

Those with ready minds,

For Slytherin ambition, is,

The greatest of all finds.

Do try me on and I'll,

Look over what I see,

I'll search for every answer,

To where you ought to be!"

The older students at the tables broke into applause, although Draco's was rather half-hearted.

Bravery…well, Bay was ready to face down any rampaging teacher, if that was bravery. Loyalty wasn't something she was known for. She was clever—all her friends and teachers acknowleged her as a brilliant mind—so would she be in Ravenclaw? Because she was ambitious all right…

Unrolling a piece of parchment, the grey-haired teacher called out to the crowd, "Axelson, Samantha!"

A small, mousey haired girl ran across the stage, and put on the hat. After a second or two, it called out to the crowd, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

One of the tables in the middle erupted in cheers, and little Samantha ran over and sat down on a bench, where she received a round of hand-shaking.

"Berts," "Cabbot," "Calia"—all the way to "Zuchiows," and "Xaphaniate,".

And then—"Bay Verite, Fifth year!"

Bay walked calmly across the stage, to whispering from the students. A new girl?

"Well, well," a voice in her head whispered. "An older student. You've been thinking about what you are, I can tell. You've got impudence, certainly, but not true courage."

_Oh thanks,_ she thought.

"You're welcome. And not much loyalty either. Sharp as anything, brilliant, but that ambition's just a driving thing, so I think you'd be best off in…SLYTHERIN!"

Bay took the Sorting Hat off and smiled at the crowd. The Weasleys were whispering and frowning. She hadn't done anything wrong.

Draco Malfoy beckoned her over. "Congratulations," he said.

"Why thank you."

At a table full of adults, a man with a long white beard stood up.

"I would like to welcome you," he said over the crowd. "To a new school year. A new year of learning to fill your heads back up with information and then leaking back out again.

"But as you learn, remember the threat to all of us. Last year we lost an innocent member of this student body. Be sure to remember what has happened."

"Umm, what happened?" Bay hissed at Draco.

"I'll tell you later," he whispered back.

"There is a grave danger to us here," the bearded man said. "A danger that is ever present in our lives. Lord Voldemort has begun to strike again. Please know that you are safe here. Now let us eat."

A large buffet of dishes on golden plates popped up. "Whoa," Bay said. She grabbed a slice of roast beef, a potato, a glass of milk, and two slices of some steaming bread. "Very good," she said, biting into the fresh bread.

"It's nothing _that_ special," Draco frowned.

"Not special compared to what?" she asked.

"Compared to the food at my house," he sighed. 

"And I suppose you live in a mansion with hundreds of acres, a score of servants and a full regiment of little house-elves that cook this?"

"Yes," he said.

"Oh."

"Draco's father is the richest wizard in the continent," the pug-girl said.

"Only if you count the African runespoor warehouse in the assets and all of the South American plantations, Pansy," Draco corrected. "And I don't think you and Bay Verite have been introduced. Bay—Pansy Parkinson. Pansy—Bay Verite."

"Hello," Bay said cheerfully, starting to cut up the roast.

Pansy-Pug-face said nothing, but sneered.

"It appears you have good taste after all," Draco said.

"Huh?"

"You were wearing _Muggle_ clothes on the train," Draco explained. "And yet you obviously have the Slytherin spirit."

"Hey, the job description didn't say anything about hating Muggle stuff—I fit the ambitious bill. And besides, you can do so much more in Muggle clothes."

"Like what?" Pansy-Pug snapped. 

"Like run down the hall and trip you, that's what," Bay said peevishly.

Pansy sniffed.

"And these robes leave so _much_ to the imagination, don't you agree?"

Pug-Face's eyes widened.

Bay saw Draco wink at her.

***

The other five Slytherin girls were Zabini Blaise, Alena Vespai, Viviane Renart, Gwen Schaffer, and, last and certainly least, Pansy Pug-Face.The boys were Adrian Nott, Charles Ticker, the two big goons Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, and last but certainly _not_ least—Draco Malfoy.

They were sitting in a cluster of rather uncomfortable chairs—Bay kept squirming in hers—as the other students in her year told her a little bit about the school. 

"Watch out for McGonagall—she gives to much homework."

"You're taking Arithmancy? Count your blessings for not having too much homework now."

"Never, ever, kick Mrs. Norris."

"Look forward to Potions, that's always a riot with the Gryffindors," Adrian Nott snickered.

"Why?" Bay asked.

"Because Snape hates Gryffindors as much as the rest of us," Gwen Schaffer told her.

"Why?"

"Because they're _Gryffindors_, for heaven's sake. Goody-two shoes who win the House Cup every year because that speccy git Potter either wins the Quidditch Cup or goes off and does something heroic—" Draco Malfoy said.

"Wait a sec," Bay interupted, "Harry Potter? _The_ Harry Potter?"

"Yes, _The_ Potter," said Viviane Renart.

"Then _why_ do you hate him? Didn't he save you Brits from some evil wizard?"

"No," Draco said dryly, "He did not save _us Brits_ from anything _and_ the Dark Lord is back anyway."

Bay paled. "You're kidding, right?" she whispered.

"No, I'm not kidding," Draco said—Bay frowned slightly, was he _glad_ about this?—"The Dark Lord came back last year and killed a Hufflepuff by the name of Cedric Diggory."

"Is that what the Headmaster was talking about?"

Ten heads bobbed silently.

Bay took a deep breath. "Let me get this straight. I just moved to a country where and evil maniac came back to life and there's a high chance I'm gonna be killed?"

"Well, there is a Dark Wizard," Viviane said.

"But he won't kill you. The Dark Lord goes mostly after Mudbloods and nosy Gryffindors who get in his way."

"Oh wow, that makes me feel _so_ much better," she said sarcastically.

"Don't worry," Gwen smiled. "You're a Slytherin. Nothing bad ever happens to us, you know."

Bay would just have to take this girl's word for it.

***

"I don't get it," Ron Weasley said for the seven-hundredth time. "She seemed so _nice_. A little touchy, but not all _evil_ like the rest of the Slytherin gits."

Hermione Granger sighed. Ron seemed to be in a state of shock that the new girl had been transferred into Slytherin. "Ron, maybe the Sorting Hat thought it was best for her."

"But—she just didn't _seem_ like one. And she was wearing Muggle clothes!"

"Ron, I haven't said this to you many times before," Harry Potter told his friend, "But just shut up."

"But—but—"

***

Bay Verite sunk into the thick four-poster bed, fingers feeling the heavy emerald velvet of the bed-curtains. This place might not be America, and it might be infested with evil wizards, but for now, she'd have to call it home.

_AN:There it is! The plot is rolling! I'd like to note that this story will mainly be from Bay's point of view, with a little Draco, Hermione, and prehaps even some "Pansy Pug-Face" and Lucius Malfoy in the mix for certain key points of the plot. Don't worry, Bay is not evil. She's just ambitious._ _I forgot what I was gonna say._


	3. Lessons

3: Lessons   
Draco Malfoy rose with the sun. It was impossible to sleep past sunrise for some odd reason.   
He pulled the black school robes over his hair, shaking it out of his eyes. Over the summer it had grown into long bangs that fell into his eyes.   
Carrying his bag and an Arithmancy book, he stalked down into the Common Room. As Draco bent down to put the book into his school bag, his hair fell into his eyes yet again, clouding his vision in a nimbus of pale strands. "I really need to cut that off," he muttered violently to himself.   
"Don't." The Verite girl was curled up in an chair with a scroll in her hands. Her school tie was loose, she didn't seem comfortable in the Hogwarts uniform. "You look like a surfer boy without a tan right now, and that's an image you want to hold on to."   
Draco arched his eyebrows. "And do you think looking like a bum from the beach is wonderful?"   
She smiled. "Mmm hmm. And so does the entire female, teenage population of the world, I think. Excluding Lesbians, but you can't really help that, now can you."   
Draco stiffled a laugh. Verite's sense of humor was certainly very interesting.   
"I can only assume that you know how to get to breakfast after you've completed four years here," she said, and Draco noted a bit of shyness in her joking voice, she was the new girl and knew she didn't fit in quite yet. "Can you show me the way?"   
"Sure."   
Verite grabbed her bag and followed Draco out the door.   
Halfway down the the Great Hall, Verite broke Draco's natural silence as she tied her hair back.   
"If you grew your hair long enough, you could pull it into one of those little pig-tails like people in the seventeen-hundreds wore."   
"Oh, that's ever so helpful," he said sarcastically.   
She grinnned. "I know."   
That was when Draco rolled his eyes in mock despair.   
And Verite grinned again. 

***   
"Potions first," Blaise said sleepily, running her fingers through her raven-wing hair.   
Bay bit her lip. From her recollection of the Weasley twin's conversation with her before, Snape was the meanest teacher in the school. According to her House members, he was the best. She'd have to figure the professor out for herself.   
"Potter persecution," Alena snickered, brown eyes glittering.   
Gwen and Blaise giggled malaciously as well. Bay simply smiled and raised her eyebrows. Why exactly did Slytherins hate Gryffindors?   
"Oh, look, only fifteen minutes until class!" Gwen gasped, standing up. "I hadn't noticed the Hall emptying!"   
Bay had noticed, but preferred to keep on chatting. "We should go then, shouldn't we?"   
Alena nodded. "We'll have trouble pairing up now, because with Bay we have twenty-one people."   
"No, because one of the Gryffindor girls moved to Australia. Scared little Landers."   
"Well," said Bay reasonably as they started to leave, "If I had to choose between being killed by an evil wizard staying or being teased by you when I couldn't hear it and going, I'd leave too."   
"But you aren't Landers," Gwen said. "So why bother arguing that point?"   
Bay shrugged.   
The chamber outside the Great Hall had thick rugs, colorful portraits and tapestries, and suits of armor. As the group went deeper, Bay noticed, the carpets disappeared and more gloomy tapestries replaced their colorful counterparts. Bay shivered slightly at the cold and damp feeling of the air around her.   
She might have walked right passed the narrow door if Blaise hadn't pulled her into it. "I'll be your partner," the dark-haired girl whispered. "Gwen and Alena will partner up, Viviane will probably work with Adrian, and Pansy the Pill can work with a Gryffindor."   
"Fine with me," Bay smiled.   
The two of them chose a seat behind Alena and Gwen and Blaise began assembling equipment. "Circe's Cauldron," Blaise whispered, "Any information on it?"   
"Well…the witch Circe had this stuff that turned people into animals…and what type of animals they turned into had something to do with what type of person they were…and there was something about a magic flower that was an antidote sort of a thing…and that's really all I remember. Ask the teacher when he gets in here."   
"Actually," Gwen said, turning around, "That pretty much sums it up. The potion turns you into whatever type of animal you are at heart. And the antidote is the Messenger's Trillium."   
"Interesting. Now we'll know what types of people are disgusting little rodents," Bay said.   
"Oh, I expect Weasel-Weasley will be a rodent. Probably a weasel," Draco smirked, and he took a seat in front of Alena and Gwen.   
"That's real rich coming from the Amazing Bouncing Ferret."   
In the narrow doorway were the Gryffindors. The black-haired boy Bay had seen the night before was frowning at Draco.   
The barest hint of coloring rose in Draco's pale face. "Oh," he sneered, "And I expect you're going to turn into some brave and mighty Gryffindor lion, Potter?"   
It was hard for Bay to keep a straight face. The two of them were even less competent at insults than her little sister. Each was leaving openings for the other to insult him.   
"Better than a slimy, dirty, Slytherin snake."   
"Actually," Bay told him, smiling, "Snakes aren't slimy at all, and are practically the neatest creatures alive. There is absolutely nothing wrong with snakes. By the way, have you brushed your hair recently? It looks like you've had a few animals less tidy than snakes sleeping in it."   
Harry Potter blinked. "Actually, I brushed it this morning."   
But Bay knew it was a poor comeback, and Blaise nudged her with a wink as the Gryffindors sat down.   
Professor Snape came in then, and Bay wondered how long it had been since he had last washed his hair.   
"Today," he told the class, "We will be making a potion known as Circe's Cauldron. It reveals a person's true animal form at heart. Make sure to add the essence of mikal after the potion come to a boil."   
Getting the fire started with some ebony flames from her wand, Bay started to chop up the Venus Fly-trap pads. What sort of an animal would she be…? Not a snake, not a lion, and certainly not a ferret.   
"Hey," she whispered to Blaise, "What was Harry Potter talking about? That thing about the Amazing Ferret?"   
Blaise rolled her eyes. "Last year, Draco and Potter got in one of their little fights. Potter turned away and Draco was going to jinx him, but the crackpot Dark Arts Professor saw him and turned him into a ferret. It's been one of their main insults for a while, actually."   
"Okay…" Bay said, letting her skepticism show.   
"It's true. Ask Potter himself."   
Bay shrugged. "I'll belive you."   
"You should."   
The potion, currently bubbling in a saffron color, turned lime green with the addition of the fly-trap pads. "Finished dicing the unicorn hairs?"   
"Yes," Blaise sighed, and she dumped the small pile into the potion. Now it was a swirling purple color…not something Bay would be interested in drinking.   
"Isn't it supposed to be white?" Bay asked cautiously.   
"Drat! We forgot the ground unicorn horn!"   
Carefully, Bay measured out half a teaspoon of the brilliant silver dust, dumping it carefully into the cauldron. The mixture swirled a moment more before finally turning the desired white. "It looks like milk."   
"I guess," Blaise said, closing her eyes and standing up. "Let's go wash up."   
The icy water numbed Bay's hands, and she hurried back to the little fire around the cauldron, grinning as she warmed her hands in the crackling flames. Blaise leaned back in her seat and looked like she was trying to sleep, which was rather hard with the bubbling, clanging, and thudding of knives going on around the room.   
Presently, all the noises stopped and the rest of the class sat back like Blaise.   
"Now," Professor Snape said, "You test your potions. If you've brewed it correctly, you will transform into an animal. If not, you may end up with the head of a mongoose and the legs of an ostrich. I wish you," he continued with a malacious smile at the Gryffindors, "The best of luck."   
Blaise grabbed a ladle, and Bay picked up the stirring spoon. "On the count of three?" Bay whispered.   
"One, two, three."   
Neither of them drank.   
"Okay, just go," Bay said, and she drank.   
There was one word to describe it: she was stretching. Her ears felt like they were being pulled out, her legs shrunk and her arms did too. Her torso lengthened, and so did her nails. There was a peculiar prickling feeling as well…   
Then came the noise. It felt like she could hear everything, and smell everything. But something was wrong with her eyes and she wasn't seeing the colors, although she saw distinct shades of color.   
Next to her was a black bird, either a crow or a raven, but most likely the latter. It was staring at her. 'Blaise?' She thought.   
'Who else?'   
'Who's talking? Why am I hearing things?' A tawny owl with puffed feathers was talking in some way.   
'What am I?' Asked a little brown mouse next to the owl.   
"I do believe," said the professor, "That right now your Anipathy will be kicking in. Anipathy is a talent that allows transformed wizards and witches to communicate with other similarly changed people." Professor Snape then changed one of the walls into a mirror. "I'm giving you time to figure out what you are, while I go pick up the antidote from Professor Sprout." And he walked out of the room.   
Much lower than she had been a minute ago, Bay walked over to the mirror, something swishing behind her. A black shadow stared back at her, tail flicking and grey eyes studying their new body. A panther.   
The raven hopped onto her head, just as the rest of the herd of animals came over. 'I'm a raven and I still don't know why I'm like a writing desk,' Blaise laughed.   
'Let's figure out who's who,' Bay shouted to the entire group. 'Line up, then step out and tell us who you are as a human being.'   
'No thanks,' said a white bird hovering above her. It looked a bit like a snowy owl, only more hawkish and slimmer. The barrings were jet black, like splatters of ink. 'I'm not interested in lining up for roll call. Besides, I intend to have a bit of fun first.' The white bird swooped down and landed on the rack of a stag.   
'Enjoy this?' the stag said, 'Get off me, Malfoy.'   
'Now how did you know it was me, Potter?'   
'I could ask you the same question,' and the stag began to shake its head vigorously, trying to get Draco off.   
Some of the animals were sending out peals of laughter. Bay glanced at them. They must all be Slytherins. There was a laughing tortoise, a poodle, an otter, a stoat, a fox, a hare, a lemur, and a slimy yellow blob that could have been a slug besides her, Blaise, and Draco.   
'Buzz off, Malfoy,' a reddish-gold retriever snarled.   
'That red really gives you away, Weasley. Does the little doggie want his bone?'   
The dog growled. 'Shut up, Malfoy.'   
'Oh, and are you going to make me?'   
'Malfoy, get off!' Harry told the bird clinging to his antlers.   
'Again, there is absolutely no way you can get me to move when I don't want too.'   
'Maybe you should have been a mule, Malfoy,' Harry said, exasperated. ' You sure are being ass stupid.'   
'Oh! Potter made a smart comeback! Where are all the fireballs and comets for Doomsday?'   
Bay had been watching with an amused grin. But now she saw Ron Weasley, the red Golden Retreiver, tensing. He was going to jump at Draco—   
Hurdling over the fox and the otter, Bay slammed into Ron in midair, knocking him to the ground. And now the Anipathy channels, which had been silent for Draco, Harry, and Ron's exchange, were noisy with animals shouting to each other. Bay had one paw on Ron's chest, and she screamed to him over the hubub, 'You idiot, you could have hurt both of them!'   
'Bay?' Ron gasped.   
'Yes me. If you missed you would have broken Harry's antlers. Be more careful.' Then she pressed slightly harder into his fur and stalked away.   
Blaise and the owl were now viciously beating each other with their wings and shrieking. The mouse was running from the stoat, and a gazelle was stabbing at the otter. Bay slipped into a corner, not willing to join the fray unless she had to.   
Someone landed on her back. 'It looks like I started quite a pandimonium,' Draco laughed.   
'If anyone gets hurt, will you take the blame so readily?'   
'No. But I'm doing the same thing you are—staying out of the fight for now.'   
'Whatever.'   
'Sit back and enjoy it, Verite.'   
'How did you know who I was?'   
'You accent. Stands out even here.'   
And it was then that the professor returned, carrying a basket of small white and gold flowers. "Potter!" he shouted.   
'And besides,' Draco added, 'Potter and Weasley will get blamed anyway.'   
Professor Snape began to shoot out freezing hexes into the melee. When everyone else was immoble, Bay and Draco walked quietly out of the corner, two silent shadows.   
"Now," Professor Snape said in a deadly voice, "I will touch each of you with the Messenger's Trillium, and you will resume your normal forms. Everyone except those two," and he gestured at Draco and Bay, "Will receive detentions."   
The professor touched Draco with the flower, and Draco touched Bay with it. She was pulled again in the opposite directions she had been pulled in before. When she was in her normal form again, Bay touched Blaise with it and quickly packed up.   
Once out the door she began to run, trying to catch up to Draco who was halfway down the hall. "Why did you do that?" she asked.   
He smirked. "Just to annoy them."   
Bay shrugged. "That's a fine reason for starting, but you went a little far, don't you think?"   
"Not really."   
Sighing, Bay stopped walking at Draco's fast pace and waited for Blaise. She still hadn't found out who was what animal.   
***   
"I'm telling you, Defense Against the Dark Arts is horribly boring," Gwen said.   
"It wasn't at my old school."   
"Well it is here," Viviane told her, looking up from her textbook, "Because we get a new teacher every year."   
Bay rolled her eyes. "Sure you do. I suppose they all drop down dead?"   
"The first one did," Alena said. "The second one got hit with a Memory Charm—turned out good for us too, he was an egotistical git—and left after that happened. Third was a werewolf, but I'll admit he knew about Dark Creatures. He was probably best friends with some of them. Last year the teacher wasn't who the Headmaster had hired, and the imposter got his soul sucked out by the Dementors."   
"And that," Blaise informed her, "Is a brief history of our Defense teachers."   
Bay couldn't say anything.   
"This teacher's the one we were supposed to have last year. He agreed to come."   
"His name is Mad-Eye Moody…he was a great Auror," Viviane sneered, "But now he's a senile old crackpot."   
"And we have his class next!" Bay said cheerfully.   
"Ummm, yeah."   
***   
There were no chairs in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.   
Draco sat down at the back of the room, where he would be if there were desks. Some of his Housemates remained standing, and some sat down like he did. Verite perched on the windowsill.   
Closing his eyes, Draco waited for the teacher to come in.   
"Stand up!"   
Quickly, Draco jumped to his feet. The rest of the sitting students stood up swiftly as well. Verite smashed her head on a wooden bar and moaned loudly as she straightened.   
"I didn't move the desks so you could lie down and sleep!" the old professor barked. He looked exactly as Draco remembered him, although he had a little less hair. The whirling eye that gave him his nickname roved around the room. "You are going to get into shape for training in this class! And that means you're going to stand up! Any questions?"   
Draco raised his hand. He had asked this question of the imposter-teacher Crouch last year, but hadn't gotten an answer.   
"You, back there, what is it?"   
"Can you see through people's clothes with your eye?"   
There were scattered giggles around the room. Although Zabini simply rolled her eyes, Verite was covering her mouth and doubled up with laughter behind the professor's back.   
"If I wanted to," Moody said grimly, "Yes, I could." This brought on a fresh wave of snickers. "But I have it set only to see through Cloaking Charms and Devices. Now! Last year you learned some pretty good jinxes and counter-jinxes…and you covered the Imperius Curse as well, I'm told. This year we'll get into the Patronus Charm, as well as a whole new set of hexes and curses. Since none of you did too well on the Imperius Curse last year, we'll cover that again as well."   
There was a well merited set of groans at this announcement.   
"Why are you moaning?" Moody asked. "If there's a job to be done, you have to do it!"   
Behind Moody's back, Verite was smacking her head into her fist.   
That pretty much summed up the feelings in the class, Draco thought. We'll all get to waltz around like ballerinas without knowing it.   
Verite raised her hand. "If you were using the Imperius Curse on someone, do they snap out of it if you use the Crutaticus Curse on them? I mean, it has to hurt like hell, and that would snap you out of anything, wouldn't it?"   
Moody turned around, his wooden leg clanking on the floor. "American, are you? From New York as well to judge by that accent of yours."   
"Um, yes."   
"Then your teacher would be a certain Llydin Holmes. Holmes routinely teaches all of his students practically every aspect of the Unforgivables. You already know the answer, so stop wasting time."   
Verite bit her lip. "I forgot," she offered hopefully.   
Draco cracked a wry smile.   
Moody sighed. "The answer is no, the Imperius Curse retains its hold on a victim until it is broken by will power or taken off."   
"Thanks," Verite said.   
Draco spotted Zabini rolling her eyes at Verite. What an idiot that girl was being. Wasting time, Draco supposed.   
"The rest of you!" Moody shouted. "Line up! We're doing some demonstrations!"   



	4. Broomsticks (in which we see the start o...

Title: The Dragon Hearted (3/?)   
Author: Silvermane   
E-mail: unicorn_silver_@hotmail.com   
Category: Action/Adventure & Romance   
Keywords: Bay, Draco, sword, America, Slytherin   
Spoilers: All   
Rating: PG   
Summary: Bay Verite is a wild transfer from America, sorted into...Slytherin? Confused by the anti-Muggle, anti-rest of the school, anti-everythingness of her house mates, Bay becomes friends with such unlikely people as Hermione Granger. Yet all the while she grows closer to Draco Malfoy, who is poised to join the ranks of the Death Eaters. Bay might be able to stop him...but she's going to be dragged into a conflict she never wanted to join. Together, they might be able to aid Harry Potter, because two Slytherins are one of the keys to an ancient weapon...a weapon that can be used for Dark or Light.   
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. 

Author's Note: This chapter is for the people who mistakenly thought that people watched Quidditch in the equivalent of nosebleed baseball seats. Also, I know Taiba is the name of a girl in the Belgariad (David Eddings), but I didn't want to think of a new name and I like the name Taiba. 

3: Broomsticks   
"Quidditch tryouts!" Blaise sighed, lying down on her bed. "We lost half our team since last season."   
"Quidditch?" Bay frowned.   
"Yes Quidditch," Blaise said. "Only the most popular game in the world, Bay."   
"Not in America," Bay said. "We play Quodpot."   
"Kwa-what?"   
Bay sighed. "It's a game. You have eleven people on a team. There's a ball called the Quod. You throw the Quod around before it explodes in your face. The goal of the game is to get the Quod into the pot at the end of the field, which stops it from exploding at all. Every time you put the Quod in the pot, your team gets a point."   
"Sounds like Quidditch with all Chasers and an insane cross between the Quaffle and Bludgers. Do you know anything about Quidditch, Bay? I mean, you have to have heard of it."   
"I know what it is. I've played once or twice. But Quodpot is more fun."   
"It sounds insane."   
Bay shrugged. "There've been suggestions that the person who invented it was insane. Most of those get stopped by die-hard Quodpot players and fans hexing the person who suggested it and then firing Memory Charms at him so he never remembers what his idea was in the first place."   
"Right," Blaise said, looking at her like the captain of the American National Quodpot team looked at someone who said any and all broom sports should be banned. "Er-has anyone been killed?"   
"Not too many. At least, not as many as Quidditch has killed off over the years. But then again, it hasn't been around as long."   
Blaise looked uncomfortable now. "So are you going to try out for the Quidditch team?"   
"I suppose I will. I've played Chaser in a few mock games. It's almost natural, because Quodpot, like you said, is all Chasers who need to be very, very fast."   
"I think I'll go for Beater," Blaise said. "Nobody ever wants to play defensive positions, and you can always stop yourself from being hit with a Bludger if you're the one with a bat."   
"When are the tryouts?"   
"Tonight."   
"TONIGHT?!" Bay exploded. "WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?!"   
"Well, I didn't even know what you played until tonight! If you were going to try for Beater, I wouldn't have told you! Less competition that way," Blaise added. "Why, do you need a broom mailed to you?"   
"No, as a matter of fact I don't," Bay snapped.   
"What type?"   
"A Firebolt," Bay said smuggly.   
Blaise looked surprised and thrilled. "A Firebolt! One of three in the whole school! Gryffindor has Chasers on...let me think...a Cleensweap Seven, a Nimbus 2000, and another Cleansweep. But then again, their Beaters just upgraded to Nimbus 2001's, they...oh, drat, I can't tell you their Keeper's broom, they don't have one yet. But then again, Potter has a Firebolt."   
"If I play Chaser, the Seeker shouldn't get in my way."   
"True," Blaise admitted.   
"How did you know what all the Gryffindors are riding?"   
"One keeps up on such things," Blaise said airily. "Especially if one wants to join the Quidditch team."   
***   
It was a clear night, and the grass rippled under a tiny breeze. A small knot of aspiring Slytherin Quidditch players stood clustered around the remaining members of the team. Draco Malfoy as captain, dressed in the green Slytherin playing robes, leaned on his broom an addressed the group.   
"I'm captain this year, on Professor Snape's orders. I know there are a few sixth and seventh years in this group. If you make the team, you will be older than me. But you will not have senority, and I won't take any backtalk from you. If you don't behave or don't perform well, you're off the team. I'm sure I'll be able to find a replacement."   
"Knows what he's doing, doesn't he?" Bay murmurred to Blaise.   
"Giving orders comes naturally to him," she whispered back.   
"If you plan on becoming a Chaser, go over with Nott and Avery. Would-be Beaters and Keepers, follow me. Move!" he barked.   
"Drill sergeant," Bay said as she and Blaise moved off in different directions.   
Blaise said nothing.   
"We're going to watch you broom sprint," Charles Avery said. "To the posts over there and back. Pick up one of those scraps hanging on the posts to prove you really went over."   
I've got it made, Bay thought, smirking inside and outside. I've got a Firebolt...let's see, my hardest competition is a Nimbus 2001. If I can't beat him, I sure as hell don't deserve this broom.   
Nott and Avery hovered in the air. "In a line!" Adrian Nott bellowed. "One-two-THREE!"   
The ground was hard and firm. Bay got a good kickoff and went rocketing ahead of the rest of the group. She was back again by the time most of the others were still picking rags off the hoop.   
"Nice broom, Verite," Adrian said admiringly. "Your folks must have been in a good mood lately."   
"Oh no," she laughed. "My classmates all pitched in. It's a going away present."   
"You've sure got some nice friends," Charles said.   
She would have replied, but by now the pack was back. "Don't worry," Adrian whispered as he went past her. "You've made the team. The rest of this is just a formality." He winked at her.   
"Line up!" Charles shouted. "We're pairing you off for a Chaser's scrimmage. You lot at that end-" this was the slowest group, who had just come in "-you'll defend those hoops. The rest of you, defending these," he added, gesturing at the far hoops.   
This, of course, put Bay in her element. What was Quodpot if not, as Blaise had said, an all Chasers Quidditch game? She ricocheted around the huge viewing towers with the Quaffle. Her team won 310 to 20. Hmmm, she thought idely. This broom really works.   
When the torches started to fade a bit, Draco called in the groups. "We have to think a bit. You may leave now or go back to the dungeons. I'm sure someone with more common sense than you will tell you if you made the team later. As you know, we will only be selecting one Chaser and, rather obviously, one Keeper. wo Beaters will be selected as well. Slytherin will ave no replacements this year. You have five minutes to et your hopes up."   
"I saw you scrimmaging," Blaise said.   
"I saw you practicing. Have you ever played baseball? Man, can you swing that bat."   
Blaise looked strangely at her. "What's baseball?"   
Bay shook her head exasperatedly. "Never mind."   
"You made the team."   
"I sure hope so, with this broom. You're going to make it."   
Neither of them said anything. They lounged in one of the spectator's boxes, waiting.   
***   
Draco landed next to Nott and Avery. "I hope you glanced at what I was running. Holland and Zabini for Beater. Rahn for Keeper."   
"Sounds good," Nott shrugged.   
"Zabini's got quite an arm," Avery commented.   
"That's why she's on the team, obviously. Who's your Chaser candidate?"   
"Verite," Avery said. "She's got a Firebolt."   
"So do I," Draco said.   
"She can use her Firebolt."   
"Are you implying that I can't?"   
"No," Avery said quickly.   
"She can also control the Quaffle. The scrimmage was 310 to 20. Verite scored 260 goals in an hour."   
Draco nodded. "So she can play. But she's new."   
"So?"   
"Really, Nott, must I explain this to you? She's new. We don't know her family. Does she have house pride?"   
"I don't think it matters," Avery said. "She can help us win."   
"Fine. She's on. Zabini and Holland as Beaters and Rahn for Keeper. Verite for Chaser."   
***   
"Come in!" Draco bellowed.   
"He's going to ruin his lungs," Blaise noted.   
"I hope not," Bay said, dismounting.   
"Slytherin team will not take the incompetent. Many of you fall into that catergory. The ones of you with any great skill are few. They made the team. For Keeper..." Draco paused here, smirking at the apprehensive faces. "Who did we pick, Nott? Avery, do you remember? Pity...we'll just have to think about it another few seconds..."   
"He is so cruel," Bay said under her breath.   
"Look at them squirm," Blaise laughed nervously.   
"Ahh, I remember now," Draco said. "Our Keeper is...Kerran Rahn."   
A tall brown-haired boy gave something similar to a war whoop.   
"Our Beaters are...Taiba Holland...and...yes, Zabini, you made the team."   
Blaise grinned.   
"We had more people try out for Chaser than any other position, despite the fact that there was only one slot open. Our Chaser is...oh, the agony you're going through right now. I can just see it on all your faces..."   
"Get on with it, Malfoy," a tall seventh year snapped.   
"What did you tell me to do?" Draco asked softly.   
The seventh year shifted uneasily. "I told you to hurry up."   
"Really? Nobody tells Draco Malfoy what to do, Iriangan. Needless to say, you didn't make the team."   
"Why, you arrogant little twit," the older boy said, drawing his wand.   
"Auctus!" Draco said calmly, whipping out his wand.   
It happened very slowly. First, Iriangan's hair began to grow. Then his nose enlarged. His fingers grew long and looked rubbery. Bay wanted to be sick. Iriangan screamed.   
"Go get someone with more skill and sense than you to take that curse off," Draco said scornfully. "Our Chaser is Bay Verite."   
Bay nodded weakly. What a hell of a season this would be with Draco Malfoy as a captain.   
***   
"Does Draco do that often?" Bay asked, back in the dorm.   
"Not really. He's got some type of advanced Spanish-honor syndrome. You insult him, he makes you scream and wish you'd never been given a mouth. Only to Slytherins, though. He's king of the House, and he knows it. His father has connections; Professor Snape likes him. He can get away with anything here, because if anyone blabs, Draco can make suffer even more. Gryffindors and those other lots, they'll let someone know, and Draco actually gets punished. He's smart enough not to curse any of them, unless he boils over completely."   
"He seemed pretty hacked off at Harry Potter. You're telling me they don't hex each other at least once a week?"   
"Oh no," Blaise shrugged. "Draco thinks aggrivating Potter is just a game."   
"Why do they hate each other?"   
"I dunno. All Slytherins hate Gryffindors, but Draco and Potter do take it to the extreme."   
"I can tell," Bay said in a dry voice.   
***   
Harry slipped back into Gryffindor Tower and pulled off his Invisibility Cloak. Ron was standing, grinning from ear to ear, next to Hermione. Hermione was not smiling. She had one of thoses "Oh,-I-know-you've-been-doing-something,-so-tell-me-now looks" on.   
"Are the Slytherin gits as hopeless as last year?" Ron asked excitedly.   
"Really, Harry!" Hermione exploded. "I am sure Professor Dumbledore did not give you that cloak so you could run around spying on rival Quidditch teams!"   
"Who's to say he didn't?" Harry said mildly. "After all, he is an alumni-Gryffindor."   
Hermione's anger seemed to be beyond words. Ron, being slightly more practical in cases such as these, repeated himself. "So how's the team?"   
"Well," Harry said, "They still have Malfoy, so they've got a drawback there. But Malfoy's on a Firebolt now. Nott and Avery are their old Chasers, you've seen them in action. Not the best Death Eaters-to-be ever to mount a broomstick, but good enough to keep us on our toes. Tabia Holland-you know, that dumpy black-haired girl-and Blaise Zabini took Beater positions. Holland's a little below average, but Zabini's got one heck of an arm. Their new Keeper-can't remember his name--isn't that great."   
"What about the other Chaser?"   
Harry bit his lip. "That American girl you got so worked up about-"   
"I did not get worked up!" Ron protested. Hermione arched her eyebrows.   
"-Bay Verite, I think, got picked to be Chaser. Not only does she make up for their Keeper, she's as good as Viktor Krum at feinting."   
"So? Our Chasers won't fall for any of her tricks," Ron said.   
"But if our Chasers don't fall for her tricks, she'll zip past them anyway. She's got a Firebolt too."   
"But-that's not fair!" Ron protested. "They can't have that many Firebolts on one team!"   
"You didn't protest when Harry was the only one at school with a Firebolt," Hermione noted calmly.   
"That was different!" Ron said. "Now everyone is copying us!"   
Hermione snorted.   
"We're going to have to work the team," Harry said worriedly. "We haven't even filled in our empty positions yet."   
"I'm going to be Keeper this year!" Ron said.   
Harry shrugged. "Fred and George are the captains. I'd better go tell them the news."   
***   
"I heard you made your House Quidditch team," Hermione said, sinking into a library armchair.   
Bay, who was now hacking through The Redemption of Althalus, looked up. "Yes," she said happily.   
"Harry scared Fred and George Weasley half to death by telling them how you could feint."   
"I didn't see him watching."   
"He was probably hiding," Hermione explained, pulling out a piece of parchment. "Spying on the other team's tryouts isn't exactly the most honorable thing to be doing."   
Bay laughed, and turned back to her book. Althalus and his companions were valiantly defending a city from the evil troops of the corrupted Gelta and Pekhal. The infantry was storming the enemy troops-   
"What's that?" Hermione asked.   
Bay showed her. "It's a great book," she said. "Out of most of the ones I've read, their magic is closest to ours. Special words from the Book of Deiwos have power. Poor Althalus has a Goddess breathing down his neck making him memorize the thing so he can fight the enemies."   
Andine was yelling now (in the story). She had a rather ridiculous reason for yelling now. Speaking of ridiculous reasons for fighting...   
"Hermione, why do Draco and Harry hate each other?"   
"Besides the normal Gryffindor versus Slytherin twist to daily life? Well, on the first trip one the Hogwarts Express, Malfoy and Harry, er, exchanged some insults. Since then, we've taken the House Cup every year, beaten Malfoy into a pulp in Quidditch matches, made the Malfoy's lose their House Elf, and a few other things."   
"Is that it? They glower at each other throughout all the class period because of some stupid argument on their first day of school? What idiots!"   
"Well, Malfoy doesn't exactly say the nicest things!"   
"Why do you call him Malfoy? Suppose he had a little brother here, what would you call him then?"   
"I'd worry about that then. You do have a point, though. It's a bit of a habit, I suppose. Does Draco just hate Harry, or does he hate all Gryffindors that much?"   
"I think he really hates all Gryffindors. He hates the Quidditch team more than the average Gryffindor, and he hates Ron, Harry, and me most of all. Ron hates his guts. You saw what Ron tried to do in Potions, that day when we all turned into animals. You were the panther, weren't you?"   
"How did you know?"   
"Even your Anipathy seemed to have an accent."   
Bay groaned. "Stupid accent."   
Hermione giggled. "It's sort of funny, actually."   
"You should hear imitation British accents over in the States." Bay put on a horrible Cockney accent. "G'day, miss. Luvely weather we've been 'avin, don'cha think?"   
"That is awful," Hermione said with a grimace.   
"Oh yes, I agree. But since you know what I was, will you tell me what you were?"   
"A snowy owl."   
"Oh, those are such pretty birds! You got in sort of a cat-fight with Blaise, didn't you?"   
"Blaise Zabini was a raven, right? Well, I wouldn't call it a cat-fight. I've had a few arguments with her myself."   
"You all need to stop fighting. Learn to get along. Look at the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, they're perfectly happy without getting into arguments with each other."   
"Gryffindors have hated Slytherins for a long time. It goes back to the Founders."   
"Sorry, Hermione. I don't know anything about this place."   
"I'll tell you the basic story. You should really read Hogwarts: A History, though. I'm just giving you a short outline. This school was founded by four people: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin."   
"The Houses are named after them, aren't they?" Bay asked shrewdly.   
"Yes, they are. You heard the Sorting Hat, it told you virtues each of the Founders looked for. Gryffindor liked brave students; Ravenclaw preferred the clever ones; Hufflepuff looked for loyalty; Slytherin looked for ambition and cunning. Slytherin thought there shouldn't be any Muggle-born students admitted. You have to realize that this was the time when most witch-burnings were going on-"   
"Yes, Hermione. I know about witch-burnings. Binns only droned on all class yesterday about how goblins were burned as well."   
"Well, Slytherin didn't want any Muggle-born students at Hogwarts. The others confronted him. Gryffindor was the main antagonist. Slytherin left, and Gryffindors and Slytherins hate each other. Before Slytherin left, though, he built a place called the Chamber of Secrets. There was a basilisk inside that he left for his heir to call up and kill Muggle-borns."   
"It seems like a pity his pet snake didn't kill him."   
"Salazar Slytherin was a Parselmouth. So was his heir. Over fifty years ago, the Chamber was opened, and a girl was killed. It was opened three years ago again, and Harry stopped the Heir of Slytherin. That kind of raised tensions just a little."   
"Just a little," Bay repeated. "That's pretty impressive. I guess we'd better start ripping each other's guts out now."   
"Not before dinner," Hermione protested, admiribly trying to keep a straight face.   
"No, not before dinner," Bay agreed. "Let's just be an execption to the rule."   
"Okay," Hermione said softly. "You know, you aren't what I expected of a Slytherin."   
"You were expecting something?"   
"Yes, I was! Everyone else in Slytherin is a pureblood snob, who look down on Muggle-borns and all the other Houses. They cheat, they lie to teachers, and half of them have parents who were Dark Wizards and Witches!"   
"I don't."   
"I know. That's what surprised me. When Ron told me how you had played Muggle sports with them and acted, well, normal, I thought he was being slightly delusional."   
Bay clapped her book shut. "That's the type of person I am. I enjoy those things, so I do them. You're a Muggle-born, aren't you, Hermione? We have a lot of Muggle-borns in the States."   
"I am, actually."   
"What was it like," Bay asked. "Being here with a basilisk running around, when it might have come after you?"   
"Horrible," Hermione said quietly. "I figured out what it was before anyone else knew. But it got me; I looked in a mirror and saw the eyes."   
"Tara," Bay whispered. "We learned about basilisks. You were Petrified, then?"   
"It was horrible," Hermione said softly. "You don't know how horrible it was. I was floating in this dark place, where I couldn't see and couldn't hear. I couldn't move. I remember being so scared about it, but I couldn't do anything except be scared."   
"That's awful, Hermione. I—I guess I should say sorry for my jackass House."   
Hermione actually laughed, and the fearful look that had haunted her eyes left. "I told you that story because I want to tell you to watch out. Don't turn into one of those bad Slytherins."   
"I won't. I promise. Remember the yin-yang. I'll be the good in Slytherin House."   
***   
"Aren't you nervous?" Blaise asked tensely.   
"I'm too sleepy to be nervous," Bay mumbled sleepily, wiping her eyes.   
"Honestly!" Blaise said. "You could at least pretend to be nervous, for my sake."   
"How's this? Dear Tara! We're having a Quidditch game! Help! Help! Despite the fact that we have superior brooms, we're afraid of the Hufflepuffs! Argggggghhh!"   
"That was scary," Gwen said mildly. "But really, Bay. Quidditch matches are important!"   
"Do you want me to get worked up?"   
"Well…"   
"I didn't think so. Blaise, eat your bacon."   
"It's too crispy," Blaise muttered.   
"Then give it to me," Bay said happily, "and you can have my greasy, soggy, fatty bacon instead."   
Blaise groaned. "I don't want to eat, Bay. I'm too nervous."   
"Gwen, feed her. No, I don't care how ridiculous you look, she needs to eat."   
"I don't feel like anything except bread right now, thanks," Blaise said, picking up a slice of bread and covering it with a rather excessive amount of butter.   
"Just make sure you eat," Bay shrugged. "Gwen, what are our chances against Hufflepuff?"   
"Nobody's betting on the Hufflepuffs, but you will get booed a lot. After all, we are the evil Slytherins."   
"Screw them. We're going to win."   
"Team, showers!" Draco barked, and stalked off with his green robes billowing out behind him.   
"You've got juice on your robes," Bay said to Blaise.   
"I do? Where? Help me find it—oh, that was so immature."   
"Fun, though."   
It was foggy. There wasn't any wind, either, so there was no chance of the fog blowing away. A creative Chaser could use fog to their advantage. So could a creative Beater. She could sneak up on the hoops unseen, but Bludgers could sneak up on her.   
As Bay stared out of their shower-room doors, she found she could barely see the observation towers. "Draco, hit me with a X-ray Jinx," she said, grabbing his arm.   
"We aren't allowed to hex players."   
"You aren't allowed to hex players in the game. You aren't allowed to hex other team's players and brooms. You aren't allowed to be on steroids, so you can't charm yourself. There isn't anything about hexing your own team before the game."   
"Thought through like a Slytherin," he said. "Are you sure you want the X-ray Jinx? You won't be able to see the Quaffle, it isn't metal."   
"I'll see Bludgers and bones too. That's all I'm worried about."   
"Aspectus!"   
She could see through the wood of the walls now, and see the metal supports. The metal of the observation towers she could see as well. "It worked."   
"It was a good idea. Every rule has it's loophole. Do the charm on me now."   
"Aspectus!"   
***   
Hermione sat with Ron and Harry in the stands. Harry had his Omnioculars with him. "You are so paranoid this year," she had told him. "You aren't even captain!"   
"We have to beat Slytherin," he'd replied. "I'm going to learn their patterns before we play them."   
Ron had been fidgety too. This was his first year a Keeper, and he was nervous.   
"This is the first game of the season!" Lee Jordan bellowed. "Hufflepuff faced some major losses last year, but they've recouped admirably! Slytherin put toghether pretty much a new team, we don't know how any of them will hold up!"   
Booing from the Slytherins.   
The teams were hovering in their start-of-game formation. Or, that's what it looked like; she couldn't see very well in the fog. She began to wish she had brought her Omnioculars as well. Harry and Ron had their pairs almost glued to their eyes. "Accio Omnioculars!"   
"What was that, Herm?" Ron asked.   
"Honestly!" she huffed. "The game hasn't even started yet."   
Madam Hooch's whistle blew. "It has now," Harry said, without looking at her.   
Hermione caught her Omnioculars deftly. The Quaffle was in Slytherin possesion. The game had begun.   
***   
In the air, Bay eyed the yellow-clad Hufflepuffs. By the way most of them were squinting, they hadn't thought to charm themselves. "This will be a fair game," Madam Hooch said firmly. "Captains, shake hands!"   
Disdainfully, Draco shook hands with the Hufflepuff captain.   
"On my whistle—TWEET!"   
The Quaffle was up in the air—not anymore. She whizzed through the Hufflepuffs, still in their formations, to the hoops. The Keeper wasn't even in the goal area yet, but he was flying frantically toward them. Easily she scored.   
"And Slytherin—with a Firebolt! What a disadvantage that is to the Hufflepuffs—scores. 10-0."   
***   
Hermione laughed. Two years ago, Lee Jordan had been telling everyone how wonderful a Firebolt was. But that had been Harry on a Firebolt. It was much different to Lee.   
***   
Draco hovered in the mist. The Snitch was hiding somewhere, but still he couldn't see it.   
***   
"Take it, Adrian!" Bay shouted to Adrian Nott, and passed it deftly behind her to Charles Avery, who scored.   
"40-0," Lee Jordan groaned.   
***   
Harry stared into his Omnioculars. Bay Verite was fast, and the poor Hufflepuff Keeper didn't have a chance. So far, she'd taken the Keeper into a Wronski Feint to get the boy our of the way as she tossed the Quaffle up to Adrian Nott, done loops around him, come up from behind and passed the ball backwards into the hoop, faked out twice, and scored by sheer speed three times. The score was now 80-0, in Slytherin's favor.   
The green players didn't seem to have any problems in the fog. Blaise Zabini had taken out a Hufflepuff Beater and Chaser, Taiba Holland had smacked a Bludger at another Chaser's foot, but he was still flying. Any time soon, they'd take out most of the other team. It just didn't make any sense: the Slytherins saw everything, avoided it, and scored again while the Hufflepuffs were beaten into the dust.   
Another Bludger was coming out of the mists at a Hufflepuff player. The girl couldn't see it—   
***   
WHAM! Blaise grinned as her Bludger hit the Hufflepuff Seeker, who tumbled to the ground.   
"Zabini sends a Bludger at Marigold Hornby, the Hufflepuff Seeker! This game is not going well for the Hufflepuffs…Verite scores again, 120-10."   
***   
Draco zoomed in on the Chasers, who were flying in a Hawkshead Formation as one Hufflepuff who had managed to find them tried to take the Quaffle. With their enhanced vision, his team was having no problem with the fog.   
"Keep scroring! I'm not going to look for the Snitch until we get to 300!" he told them.   
"That won't be long!" Verite shouted.   
"We're at 130 now, and we're they're working on knocking out the Keeper!" Avery called.   
***   
Blaise was meeting with Taiba in midair, both the Bludgers having been sent toward the Keeper and a Chaser a moment ago. "If we work toghether, we can knock out the Keeper!"   
"Right," Taiba said. "We'll round up our Bludgers and send them from different angles at the same time. On the count of two."   
"My two?"   
"Sure."   
***   
"310!" Bay crowed, three hours of Hufflepuff Harrassment time later.   
"Where's Malfoy?" Adrian asked.   
"I dunno," Bay said, as two Bludgers whammed at the Keeper. One smashed into his foot, and the remaining Hufflepuff Beater smacked the Bludgers angrily back into the sky. "He's…look, for him." She dove in at the goals and scored.   
"Verite!" Adrian screamed.   
Draco Malfoy was falling of his broom. A Bludger was spiraling overhead. "Get his broom!" she screamed at Adrian, and went into a dive.   
Someone had slowed him down in midair. It would still be a close race, and she doubted any other broom could make it. If Draco hit the ground, both Seekers would be disqualified and the game would end. They still had 150 points to earn! Fifteen feet above the ground, she zoomed under Draco and caught him. Hovering in midair, she frantically re-adjusted him so that he was sitting in front of her and leaning back on her.   
Adrian was flying over with Draco's broom. "Thanks," Bay said, and pushed the second Firebolt underneath the two of them so that her broom wouldn't give out under the weight of two people.   
"You caught him!" Adrian said in an awed voice.   
"Yeah, yeah, keep scoring and I'll wake him up," Bay said. Adrian obediantly flew off in the direction of a Hufflepuff who had taken advantage of the Slytherin Chasers' distraction and started scoring.   
"An amazing catch by Verite, pity she got him before Malfoy cracked his head a bit…no, just joking Professor. I am informed that the game is not over yet, and that Slytherin still has a chance to catch the Snitch, if they can get it. The Hufflepuffs make a magnificent score! It's about time, 320-40…shutting up, Professor."   
Bay slapped Draco sharply. When he didn't move, she slapped him again harder. She then repeated this process until the Seeker finally came to and told her to stop it.   
"What do you think you're doing?" he said.   
"Waking you up," she said innocently. "You're starting to be a bit of a burden. Where does it hurt?"   
"My right arm and my right leg. Stupid > of a Hufflepuff."   
"So do you want me to put you down now?"   
"Of course not," he told her. "You're going to put me on my broom and let me go catch that Snitch."   
"No I'm not," she said firmly. "You can't fly. You've just been hit by two Bludgers."   
Blaise was flying over now, her face worried. "I'm so sorry, Taiba and I were excited because we'd just gotten their Keeper…"   
Draco looked at her icily. "If I didn't have a better Beater, you'd be off the team now."   
"But you don't have a better Beater," Bay chipped in. "Better Beater, better Beater, butter Beater, uggh."   
"Shut up," Draco said.   
"I could dump you off now," Bay reminded him.   
"You wouldn't."   
"I would."   
"No you wouldn't."   
"Would too."   
"Would not."   
"Would too."   
"This is immature."   
"Your point being? Would too."   
"Shut up!" Blaise screamed. "Draco still has one good arm. How many arms does he need to catch as Snitch? Just one. Bay flys, Draco catches. I make sure no more Bludgers come over here."   
"What about the rest of the team?" Bay protested.   
"I knocked out the second Hufflepuff Beater before coming to get you."   
"Good idea," Bay approved.   
"Snitch!" Draco said, pointing with his good arm. "Go!"   
Bay took off. It only took a moment to get used to having two brooms under her, so she started off at about the top speed of a Nimbus 2000. It was still pretty fast. "You got it?" she asked.   
"Yes," Draco said, and deftly caught the Snitch.   
"Slytherin wins," Lee Jordan groaned. "500-80. Are you sure that wasn't cheating? You're positive, Madam Hooch? Oh, come on! That's just a ridiculous number! They have to have cheated! They always cheat! Ouch, Professor! No! Give me back that…"   
"And the victory goes to Slytherin House," Professor McGonagall said in a resigned tone. "Jordan, sit."   
Madam Pomfrey was on the ground waiting for them, tutting about what a dangerous sport Quidditch was as she helped Draco off the brooms.   
"Thank you," Draco said, rather awkwardly.   
"You're welcome," Bay told him, cheerily. 

the chapter has ended   



End file.
